


It's Only Forever, Not Long At All

by I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own



Series: Home Is Where the Heart Is [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Just Saiyan, The Oropher/ suggestions are slightly creepy, hehehehehe, imo that is, it is 2:40 in the morning and I shouldn't be allowed near a computer this late
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:01:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3392723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slowly, the scars of the forest begin to heal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Passage of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I am getting attacked by Muses left right and centre. Q, shut up. Emrys, sit the hell down. Martin, Douglas, go fly somewhere and be quiet about it. Tony, I don't have time for this rn. Loki, I'm gonna count to ten, I mean it, I will! Jareth, go and rewind time some other place, would you? Sherlock, Lestrade needs your help on a case. Mycroft, go and stop a world war or something. Neal, go and discuss your next heist with Mozzie. Peter, keep an eye on them, would you? Eggsy, go and help Lancelot and Merlin. Gabriel, go and run heaven or something, just make yourself useful, please. Ned, go and bake some goddamn pies. Thranduil, stop angsting over your wife. Legolas, be more assertive, man...er, elf!!!
> 
> (Real life is a bitch)
> 
> I can't keep my tenses straight rn, what is wrong with me? 
> 
> (Y'all mother fuckers know I'm playing the fuck around with canon, right? )
> 
> Title is from Labyrinth. (I'm indulging Jareth, maybe he'll go away if I do.)

The years pass, and the humans begin to forget they are not alone. The elves begin to form closer ties with the dwarves in Erebor, locking them both into a friendship that will last through the ages. Radagast returns from his journeys around the world, and at Thranduil’s request, he places a girdle around Mirkwood, much like Melian’s around Doriath. Only, where Melian’s girdle had doomed any who were not permitted to pass it to be lost in the forest forever, Radagast’s girdle is gentle, turning people around and leading them safely back out of the forest. In this way, Thranduil’s people and his forest survive. They endure through the years, and the changing of the world around them. They endure through the time of Man.

Radagast’s girdle protects not only the forest from the humans, but the humans from the forest. Even with Sauron gone, and much of his darkness erased, some evil still lingers in the forest, and Ungoliant’s children still spin their nests in the trees. Thranduil doesn’t expect the forest to be healthy for a long while yet. But the elves do what they can, as they always have.

In time, the Hobbits travel from their Shire to Thranduil’s borders, seeking sanctuary, and Thranduil grants it. There is no place for any of them in the World of Men, no place for them.

Not yet.

\--

Through their confinement to the forest, and with the continued eradication of the remnants of Sauron’s evil, the elves begin venturing forth from Thranduil’s Halls, establishing settlements within the forest outside the Palace grounds, as they once had. In this way, Mirkwood, or Las Galen as it is now rightly called, begins to grow and prosper once again.

Slowly, the scars of the forest begin to heal.

\--

It is not until the time of the Greeks that the people of Thranduil make their journey into the New World, into the World of Men. They recognize nothing, they feel connected with nothing. This New World is foreign to them, it makes their skin itch, and their heads ache. Nothing is familiar.

Their first few encounters with the humans do not go well. The humans fear they are evil, and try to discover what things hurt them. Thranduil orders his people to return to the forest, and not to wander past the girdle unless disguised. It is during this period that Legolas falls in love, thankfully with one of his own kind. Thranduil is, understandably, overjoyed. Beliel threatens to kick him out of their quarters for an entire week if he doesn’t stop going on about the sudden possibility of grandchildren. Things progress very slowly.

Her name is Lalaithiel and she died at the age of seven from a spider bite. She grew to maturity in the Undying Lands and spent her time dreaming of returning to the world of her childhood. When the Valar offered the elves a choice of returning to Middle-earth, Lalaithiel was one of the first to raise their hands, but she didn’t meet Legolas until many years later.


	2. Princeling Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’ve demoted myself to ‘Friend of Prince’ today instead of ‘Babysitter of King’."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything Thranduil touches turns to angst, I swear to fucking God!
> 
> Because I didn't get to clear it up in the fic, Princeling day is a day in which Oropher decides Thranduil's too stressed out and needs to relax, so Oropher takes up the title of 'Aran' for the day while Thranduil demotes himself to 'Ernil' and is allowed to indulge himself by being 'the third born child of Oropher' once again rather than 'king of all the elves left in the world, and pseudo-king of the Dwarves and the Halfling (IDK if I made him the elder twin in the other fic I had with Taeglin in, but whatever, he's the younger twin now, yeeeheeep). And thing two: each settlement has an elven Quartermaster, a dwarven Quartermaster, and a halfling Quartermaster, these three are in charge of the settlements, but they only deal specifically with issues/situations relating to their race. This way ensures no one gets left out, and that no one is abused or discriminated against, because there'll still be some bad blood between the elves, who live for goddamn ages, and the dwarves, who the elves historically have grudges against. So... 
> 
> Things to note:  
> Ernil Nin = My Prince  
> Beredhel = Bold Elf (as far as internet tells me)  
> Elrondionath = Sons of Elrond  
> Muindor = Brother  
> Aulë's Children = the Dwarves  
> Aulë = the Vala of Smithyness (i.e the dude who creates shiz, look, it's like 1 in the morning and I'm tired). He's also the guy who created the Dwarves, so they call him 'Father' or 'Creator' or whatever. Truth be told, they call him 'Mahal'. He's also the Noldor's best friend. *shrug*  
> Eldar = the Elves.  
> Rîs Nin = My Queen  
> Melethril = lover.

**856 BC**

* * *

A shriek sounds through the palace, followed by laughter, Legolas peers out his door to see colours fly by him and pass around a corner.

“Get back here, Taeglin, I’m not done with you!” Legolas’ father yells, running past with a bucket of water held in his hand. There is giggling from around the corner, and Legolas rolls his eyes.

“So very dignified!” he yells as his father vanishes around the corner. He hears chuckling and turns to see his uncle walking down the hall.

“Father told him he had the day off.” Galen says, smiling, his eyes shining. Legolas grins and shakes his head.

“Ah yes, Princeling Day, is it?” he asks, amused.

“You bet. If we could convince Arenion that Thranduil’s not going to tear into him for playing along, I think we’ll make this a Princeling Day to remember, don’t you?” Legolas laughs and leans back against his door-frame.

“I think you have only yourself to blame for that, from what Galion tells me.” Galen scowls and leans against the wall opposite Legolas’ room.

“I died long before Arenion started showing signs of being interested in my sister, I take no blame for making him scared of the Crown Prince turned King.” He replies, nose in the air.

“Such a liar.” Galion replies as he walks past. “Your wrath was legendary, and everyone knew Taeglin was the apple of your family’s eye. Of course, Thranduil didn’t help much, but that is expected, Taeglin is his twin, after all.” Galen huffs and rolls his eyes.

“You are teaming up on me. I see how it is.” He replies, Galion just laughs and shakes his head.

“Whatever floats your boat, brother.” He says, before he too disappears around the corner. He reappears a second later, frowning. “Oh, Legolas, your grandfather wants to see you before breakfast. Something is happening with the settlements.”

“Something is happening with the settlements? So vague, Galion.” Legolas says with a pout. Galion grins and shrugs his shoulders.

“Thranduil’s a prince again, I’ve demoted myself to ‘Friend of Prince’ today instead of ‘Babysitter of King’.” The elf says, before vanishing. Legolas sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Well, uncle, I’ll see you at breakfast, I suppose.” He says, waving to his uncle and slipping back into his bedroom to get dressed.

* * *

In the end, Legolas doesn’t make it to breakfast, instead he’s sent on a journey to the settlements nearer the border, where a strange illness seems to be making its way through the elven population there. Beautiful golden hair turning dull silver, and flawless skin becoming wrinkled, and perfectly fit and healthy elves coming down with coughs. It’s not normal.

“We’re not sure what it is, Ernil Nin. We think it is the humans, but we can’t be certain.” The Elven Quartermaster states as he leads Legolas through the settlement. “It’s only affecting the Eldar. Aulë’s Children and the Halfling Folk are unharmed.”

“And it’s only affecting those who have passed through into the human’s world?” Legolas asks, side-stepping a pair of children running past him, giggling and laughing. He smiles when he sees them, an elfling and a dwarfling, long ago there wouldn’t have been such a sight.

“Yes, only those who have passed through the girdle. But it isn’t all of them.” Legolas frowns, and bites his lip in thought.

“Beredhel, bring the Elrondionath to me, we’re going to enter the World of Men for the first time in millennia. Tell them to pack light, but to bring their herb packs. ”

“Ernil Nin, if I may, you will need to take one of our scouts.” The Quartermaster says, when Beredhel has gone on his way.

“Of course, Quartermaster, I shall leave it to you to pick our scout. We shall leave tomorrow, at dawn. In the meantime, I shall visit with the sick.”

“Of course, Ernil Nin, this way.”

* * *

“You did what?!” Thranduil yells, oak staff banging on the ground in irritation. “One day, Adar, one day, with the understanding you would not do anything I would not do and you-“ Thranduil shakes his head, oak staff clanging on the ground as it is let go.

“He is a prince, Thranduil, and heir to the throne! It is required of him.” Thranduil laughs hysterically and runs his hands through his hair.

“No, no, I’m not doing this again. I will not sit here and wait for him to _maybe_ return to me! I will not sit here and dream of all the ways he can be taken from me. I will not sit here and twiddle my thumbs while he is out there, risking his life for me! I will _not!!_ The people will _not_ ask this of me again. _You,_ father, will _not_ ask this of me again. _I_ will see to these matters personally if I must, my son is _off limits.”_ Thranduil roars, his eyes burning.

“Muindor, you know father is right.” Galen says, stepping forward.

“And pray tell us how _wonderfully_ that went for you! _Both_ of you.” Thranduil cries, staring at his siblings with anger, confusion, and sorrow. “Dead before you could even sit the throne! Dead before you could even attend your first date. Dead, with your blood on _my_ hands, and the weight of your responsibilities on _my_ shoulders. _Tell me how right father is when I can still see you dead in my arms!”_

“Muindor, the people need-“ Taeglin tries, but Thranduil will have none of it.

“What about what _I_ need? Will that _ever_ matter? Will the only times I can trust he’s safe be when I hold him in my arms as I wish him goodbye? Will the only way for me to keep my child safe be to abdicate and give the throne to him? Will the only way for me to keep him safe be to ensure he never has to go out on the front lines for anything less than full scale war? Will he ever be safe?”

“Thranduil.” Oropher starts, but Thranduil cuts him off with a growl.

“You presume much, father. _Too much_.”

“Thranduil.” Galion says quickly, stepping forward, hand reaching out, Thranduil does not flinch or pull away so Galion rests his hand on Thranduil’s shoulder. “Glorfindel will follow them, if you wish.”

“I wish him home, Galion. That is all I wish.” Thranduil replies, the weight of his years heavy upon him.

“You know as well as I that Legolas won’t come home now until his mission is done. He is his father’s son, Thranduil.” Galion says, squeezing Thranduil’s shoulder.

“Fine. Send Glorfindel after them. Tell him to bring them home safely.” Thranduil says, before pulling from Galion’s grasp and spinning on his heel. “I will be in Beliel’s garden if anything urgent occurs. Do not follow me.” He growls, walking away. He pushes the doors open with such force the guards on the other side jump and quickly move out of Thranduil’s way. It’s not until the doors close with a bang, and silence resumes to the ‘War Room’, that anyone manages to take an easy breath.

“That could have gone better…” Galen mutters, sinking down into his chair at the table.

“Arenion, hide the wine. All the wine bar one bottle.” Galion says with a sigh. Arenion scowls, but goes off to do as he’s told. “I’d best find Glorfindel. Goodnight all.” Galion makes his escape quickly, leaving the royals to sit in silence and think over everything Thranduil has said.

Galion finds Beliel in the halls, admiring some of the paintings along the wall. He thinks it is very clear she hasn’t heard what has occurred.

“Rîs Nin, I fear I must be the bearer of bad news.” Galion says, coming to stand beside her and admire a painting of Barad-dûr coming down. Beliel frowns and turns to him.

“Oh, pray tell, what news do you bring?” she asks, demeanour switching to that of the queen she very much is.

“Oropher has sent Legolas on a mission. Legolas, in turn, has decided to journey into the World of Men in order to complete his mission.” Beliel bites her lip and bows her head at the news. She nods after a moment and raises her head high, a fierceness in her eyes.

“Right. My heart of a husband, where is he?”

“In your garden, Rîs Nin.” Galion replies, watching the sadness that forms on her face.

“Thank you, Galion.” Beliel says, walking away.

“You’re welcome.” Galion whispers, not sure what he has done to receive thanks. He sighs and continues on his way to find Glorfindel.

* * *

Thranduil is sat on the edge of the little pond in the garden with his head in his hands when Beliel finds him. She sighs heavily and comes to stand behind him, her hands on his trembling shoulders.

“He will return to us, melethril, I promise.” Beliel says softly, sitting down beside him, she pulls him against her chest and rocks them side to side.

“I can’t do this again. I can’t.” Thranduil whispers, voice breaking.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to do it alone this time, I’m here.” Beliel says back, kissing him on the top of his head. “We’ll do this together. And he will come home to us.” Thranduil shakes his head, a strangled cry sounding in his throat, his hands suddenly fist in her dress and he buries his face in her chest as he cries. “Oh, my heart, you always did feel far too strongly.” Beliel says, carding her hands through his hair. “Have faith, melethril, everything will be alright.”


End file.
